Can't Understand this World
by Growl Snarl
Summary: He shouldn’t be here. Not anymore. This place… it was hell.
1. Prologue

Can't Understand this World

**Spoilers:** through Half-Blood Prince, End of Seventh year, which will remain a mystery to both readers and the author – Although, you should know I haven't exactly read the books recently, I'm trying to hold off so that I don't destroy the movie when I see it in theaters, but after that, I can guarantee that the facts will be a lot more accurate, so hopefully, I'll be able to edit chapter one on Monday and get it up soon after.

**Warnings: ****Character Death**

**Summary:** _He shouldn't be here. Not anymore. This place… it was hell._

**Notes:** Based off a challenge at Portkey. I'll try to remember to put a link to it in my profile. Please enjoy and tell me what you think. – This is just a prologue, and then there'll be a chapter of mourning, and then we'll get into the really interesting stuff ;D

Prologue: The End of Battles

Harry watched impassively as the green curse hit Voldemort. The bony figure crumpled to the ground in front of him, and he stood there, staring down at his life-long enemy. He couldn't believe that it was finally over. He had been doing this - fighting him - for so long, what would he do now that it was over? Harry looked down at the prone figure, hearing the cheers rising up behind him, and slowly a smile started breaking out on his face.

A second later, he fell to his knees, grasping his head. His dirtied robes were getting even dirtier, but he didn't notice, instead focusing on the fact that his head felt as though it was about to explode into pieces.

'_Thought you could get rid of me, Potter?' _a voice hissed, vibrating throughout his skull. _'As long as you exist on this earth, so will I'_

"Get out." Harry gritted through clenched teeth.

Voldemort's voice laughed mockingly at him. _'I'll never leave, Potter. And one day, you'll stop fighting me.'_ Harry felt his hand clench around his wand and knew that it wasn't him doing it. It had to be Voldemort. When had he learned to do that? Harry focused all his being on pushing Voldemort's presence to the back of his mind. He forced him behind one of his Occlumency shields, and trapped him within it.

'_And I'll be able to take over once more. That will be a day truly worth celebrating,'_ the voice sighed whimsically.

Harry ignored the voice in his head, and the blinding pain that came with it, and instead tried to find a way out of his latest mess. Before he could even begin to think, he heard a melody of distant voices calling his name.

"Harry?" "Harry!"

'_Oh yes. The mudblood and the blood-traitor.'_ Voldemort acknowledged.

'_They'll die.' _He commented offhandedly._ 'But the most delicious part is that when the words are said, they will come out of _your_ mouth. It will be _your_ wand that ends the lives of your pathetic little friends.'_

Harry felt himself freeze as the Voldemort's words rushed over him. He couldn't let it happen. He _wouldn't _let it happen. Not again. Scrambling to his knees, Harry reached blindly across the muddied grass for the fallen body of Lucius Malfoy. His fingers moved blindly across the ground before hitting the edge of a robe. He felt along the robe until he reached Malfoy's arm, and thus, his hand. Prying the cold fingers open, Harry released the silver snake-headed cane from the dead man's grip.

'_Before I kill them, I suppose I could indulge myself in some … entertainment.' _Voldemort reflected._ 'Tell me, Potter, how do you think your little girlfriend will react as I slash her to ribbons?'_

Harry clenched his hand tightly around the cane's head, feeling the silver teeth biting into his palm. He roughly wrenched out the long, silver dagger that had been kept within the hollow cane. It had been a recent development, Lucius' bloodlust. In fact, it was only learned of a month ago, when Arthur Weasley appeared on the doorstep of the Burrow after a two-week disappearance. He was cut deeply and in many different places. That day, he bled to death in his wife's arms, all the while reassuring her that everything would work out. A tag was tied around his wrist, reading "From Lucius, with care." That was what sent Molly over the edge and caused her to join up completely with the Order and even help with the training of the new recruits.

Harry roughly jerked himself out of his thinking and found that Voldemort was still prattling on. _'All those Weasleys to play with, it's almost a shame so many of them are dead.'_

Harry forced the voice back again and instead focused down on the blade in his hand, just noticing that it had crimson streaks marring its surface. He swallowed harshly and couldn't help but wonder who was on the wrong side of his blade this time. He looked around at the bodies littering the ground around him and noticed a female figure lying near Malfoy. Curly hair brought back into a no-nonsense ponytail and devoid of all her normal beads and bracelets, there lye Professor Trelawney. He had never really liked her, but she proved invaluable towards recent events and he found that when she wasn't predicting his death, she was actually alright to be around. As Harry's focus wavered, Voldemort's monologuing came back into focus.

'_And all those children you had fighting behind you. They could prove very useful. If I sacrificed them in a couple of ancient rituals, we could get me back to my old standards. Who knows, given time, this body may become just as powerful as my own.'_

Harry's hand, still circling the dagger's hilt, rose. Before allowing himself to think twice, he sunk the blade into his chest, relishing in the way it slid through his flesh so easily. He had been stabbed before –and while it wasn't fun then either, this seemed so much worse. It burned its way through his body, quickly spreading to the point where he felt as though he was on fire. He wondered idly if the blade was poisoned.

'_Potter' _Voldemort snarled,_ 'We could have been great toge–'_

Harry sighed in relief as Voldemort's voice cut off. He couldn't even feel him anymore. Actually, he didn't feel much of anything anymore. It was a nice change, he decided drowsily.

He became aware of voices and then that someone was trying to pull the blade out of his chest.

Quicker than he thought possible, his arm shot up and he covered the hand circling the dagger's hilt, effectively stopping its movement. He looked down at the odd picture the two hands made together, circles of blood-streaked flesh, before following it up the arm to a dirty, scratched face.

"Hermione," he slurred. "What you… doing?"

"Harry," Ron answered from his side, "We have to get you help."

Harry slowly transferred his gaze from Hermione to Ron, and realized that his friend was actually propping him up against his chest. "No," he said hazily. "This … good. No Vold … mort."

"You got him good, Harry," Hermione whispered, brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "He won't come back anymore. But we need to get you fixed up okay?"

She delicately started pulling again, causing Harry to tighten his grip further, unaware of the fact that he was making her wince. "Can't."

"Why not, Harry?" Ron asked, uncharacteristically gentle.

"He come … through me," Harry tried to explain. "Scar. Link. … Very bad."

Harry felt his head starting to drift forward to rest on his chest. His grip on Hermione's hand slackened before dropping off completely. "Gonna … go now," He mumbled as he faded from existence.

This was it, he knew. He was moving on.


	2. How To Move On

Authors Note: This is the chapter that I'm really worried about. Well, this one and the next one, and possibly the one after that. But anyway, I'm really uncertain as to how this will be received and, well, I'm scared. This is the emotional chapter, where it's the aftermath, you know? So I'm really dying for feedback on this one!

Chapter One: How to Move On

"Merlin," Ron breathed out. "He's gone," he said in shock. "Harry's gone."

Hermione felt tears rolling down her face but paid them no attention. She swiftly pulled the dagger out from where it was still buried in Harry's chest. Turning the stiletto over in her hands, she pondered its silver blade, now marred with rivets of crimson. She stood up beside her fallen friend, her hero. "We need to take him back to the castle," she decided, voice trembling.

Ron clumsily lifted himself, Harry's body still resting within his arms. Hermione moved forward to stand in front of him and gently brushed the blood-matted hair out of empty eyes.

The two stood, staring down into those flat eyes which normally held such life and emotion. Looking down upon him now, Hermione felt as if she wasn't even looking at her best friend, but rather a stranger. She reached out a hand to close his eyes but found that her hand froze just inches above his glasses.

"I can't, Ron," she whispered brokenly. Her eyes were still on Harry's petrified face, "I just can't."

Ron stretched his neck over the body held still in his arms to place his forehead softly against hers, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "Shh. It will be alright. You'll see." He whispered the words, knowing that neither of them would believe them but they had to be said so that they could wish and hope.

Hermione wrenched her head back. "No, it won't! It will never be alright because Harry's gone! How can we…" she broke off heavily.

"We have to. This is how it happened, and we just have to … deal. He'd want–" Ron cut himself off abruptly.

"Right now, we have to get back. See how everyone else is. See who else is…" he trailed off, unable to finish. He decided to push it to the back of his mind and instead turned to Hermione, gently bumping her hip to get her moving.

She automatically started walking by his side, and they continued making their way towards the castle, normally so welcoming, but now seemed like a lost childhood friend, one they hadn't seen in over a decade. Everything had changed and this reminder of the past, of their innocence- it was almost painful. "How many more do you think …?"

"I don't know, Hermione." Ron shook his head. "I just don't know. But we have to be … people will expect us to be strong."

"Why is always us? Why did we get loaded with this – this crap?" Hermione asked. She didn't understand how a handful of teenagers could be expected to save the world. There was no reason for people's blind faith in the idea that the 'Golden Trio' will be the saviors of humanity. Well congratulations, Hermione thought angrily. You got your wish! We saved the sodding world, and what for?

"It's because we were his friends. That's what it seemed to always come down to." Ron smiled sadly as they started walking up the entrance stairs. "Do you … regret it?" He asked hesitantly.

Hermione stopped in her tracks and whirled on her friend, almost losing her balance on the stone staircase, but too angry to care. "Never." She declared vehemently. "I will never regret being his friend."

Ron didn't let her anger intimidate him although he was sure that any Death Eater who saw it on the field soon met a swift end. "Me neither." 

More than anything, it was the faint smile on his face that calmed her down. She turned back around and kept going up the large staircase. As they reached the large double doors that meant entry into the castle, the duo paused.

"How do we tell everyone?" She asked softly.

"I don't think they matter right now."

"So we just … ignore them all."

"Right now, he's all that matters," Ron said, looking down at his friend. "We can deal with the rest of the world later."

They stood in silence for another moment, both thinking about how to go about taking care of Harry without getting pummeled by crowds of people.

Hermione let Ron in on her thoughts. "The hospital wing will be too crowded. We should take him up to Gryffindor."

"That's the only place he ever felt like home," Ron said in agreement.

Hermione took another look at her prone friend, just the sight of him, no matter his state, helping to boost her courage and resolve. "Okay. Let's go." She took a deep breath and pushed open one of the heavy doors.

The Entrance Hall was filled with people; people having tearful reunions with friends and family, people glancing anxiously at the faces around them, looking for someone familiar. Emotions were running throughout the premise. Everywhere there was a new emotion; a mother, devastated at the news that her son had died fighting. Her husband, standing next to her, also sad, and yet, proud – their son made a difference and helped save the world. A few feet away stood a young man hugging his mother tightly. He never would have showed that type of emotion a year ago, but now, he craved the comfort only a parent can provide. His mother's tears of joy, thanking deity she could think of for the fact that her son managed to survive where so many others did not. Next to them, a young man was crumpled on the ground before a friend. He had just received the news that his lover didn't make it. His heart was expressed clearly on his face, and it had just been shattered.

As Hermione pushed open the large door, heads turned to see the new arrivals, all hoping for a familiar face. When the crowd realized that it was the trio coming in, a hush fell over the vicinity. Hermione and Ron slowly started making their way forward and as they did so, the crowds parted to let them through. Eyes followed their progress, and everywhere they looked, tears were falling. The knowledge that Harry Potter had died defeating the Dark Lord shook everyone.

The pair was halfway up the stairs when there was a loud cry from within a patch of redheads.

"Harry!" Ginny screamed, running toward the duo. They ignored her cries and continued walking upwards. As soon as they reached the landing, the staircase behind them moved, carrying Ginny in the opposite direction. It was often said that Hogwarts had a mind of its own, and it seemed that the castle itself was mourning the loss of Harry.

"No! Ron, stop," Ginny screamed as they moved even further away from her. "I need to see him." Ginny collapsed in on herself, sobbing. "I need to see him."

Up in Gryffindor Tower, Ron was gently lying Harry down on his bed, the bed he had slept in for the past seven years. Looking at him now, it was almost as if he was merely sleeping, exhausted by the battle.

Or, at least, it might have looked so if it weren't for the large blood-soaked patch on the front of his robe. Ron felt as though he wouldn't even be able to look at the wound in Harry's chest without being violently ill. He turned to face Hermione who was standing stock-still at the foot of the bed. She, on the other hand, couldn't look away from Harry's wound. She found her eyes were transfixed on the point, wondering how such a thing could possibly take away her friend. That patch of red didn't seem nearly powerful enough to destroy Harry, he was stronger than that.

"We should clean him up." Ron proposed, breaking her out of her trance.

Hermione moved her eyes to her friend standing there, and watched as he pulled out his wand. Her hand shot out and stopped him. "Not wands. They've caused too much damage… I'll go get some cloths and water, you start taking his shirt off." Hermione headed toward the washroom. When she reached the door, she turned back, "just … be careful, alright?"

Ron nodded reassuringly at her, "Of course."

Hermione brought back a bowl of warm water along with several soft clothes. She kneeled by the right side of Harry's bed and Ron situated himself on the left.

Starting with his hair, they gently started to wipe him clean of blood and dirt. During this process, neither spoke or paid attention to the silent tears falling down their faces. When they reached his forehead, Ron lifted the glasses off, gently folding them together, and laying them on the bedside table. It was when they reached his shoulders that the first noise occurred. The room burst open violently, the force behind it causing the door to bang wildly against the wall. Standing in the doorway was Ginny, body heaving heavily as tears rolled down her flushed face.

"Harry," she cried, running towards them.

The pair quickly stood up and blocked the bed from her sight. This was something that no one could see; it was something that the world wouldn't be able to handle. This was just a dead child, lying on his bed, being cared after by his friends. That type of knowledge would wreck the Wizarding World, and Ginny, who saw the boy-who-lived as her hero. Of course, those weren't the only reasons that they were preventing her access to Harry, but they were the only ones that they would later admit aloud to each other. Ginny stopped abruptly when confronted with the stony-faced friends.

"Ron?" she questioned, confused, "Hermione?"

"You shouldn't be here, Ginny," Hermione said in a hoarse voice.

Ginny took a startled step backwards, "What?"

Ron stepped forward, leaving only a few inches between him and his sister. "No one can be here." He said roughly, "Get out."

Ginny reared back and slapped her brother. "I'm his _girlfriend_, Ronald. If anyone should be here, it's me!"

"You were his girlfriend for a few months, Ginny. Ron and I have been by his side for seven years. You can't be here. Now, get out." Hermione whispered the last part warningly.

"No!" Ginny said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hell, Ginny. Don't make me force you out," Ron growled roughly. For some reason, his intimidating stance over her wasn't diminished by the bright red handprint across his cheek, but rather amplified by it.

Ginny merely ignored her brother's warning and tossed her head. "I'd like to see you try."

Quicker than her eyes could follow, Ron pulled out his wand and cast a spell, sending Ginny flying out into the boy's stairwell. Hermione quickly followed his spell with a locking spell and a silencing charm. The pair stood there, staring at the door for a while as they slowly calmed themselves down.

They turned back to Harry and continued with their ritualistic washing. When they reached his chest, which was the only major wound on his body, Hermione gently taped some gauze over the wound. Neither one wanted to mar their friend with magic as both had seen the destruction that it left behind in it's wake.

Once they had finished their ritual, they gently dressed Harry in a pair of sleeping pants and a too big tee-shirt. They lightly covered him with the Gryffindor red sheet and retreated to Ron's bed.

They lied down, side-by-side, and started talking, just as they had done so many times before with Harry squished between them.

"Do you think… did he make plans?" Ron wondered aloud.

"He's Harry," Hermione said simply in response. "He wouldn't want us to have to deal with it. He's always taking care of things so that we don't have to. I wouldn't be surprised if he had every detail planned out and specified so that we wouldn't have to deal with the details."

"Do you want to let McGonagall take over the rest of the decisions? You look like you're about to fall over and sleep for a week." Ron told his friend.

Hermione looked at him, a gentle expression morphing her features. "I can't do that. I don't think I would trust anyone but us to do it. We can deal with this, right?"

"Yeah, we'll deal."

They both lied there for a while, staring up at the curtains that Ron had jinxed to be Chudley Cannon Orange before he left it for The Battle. In fact, everyone had left their mark on their beds. Harry had carved his initials into his bed, oddly enough, right below what they determined were his fathers. Hermione had built in a bookshelf on the bed frame, and left a well-worn copy of Hogwarts, a History for the next occupant. As she had walked out of her room that day, she noticed that Lavender placed a charm over her bed, leaving it smelling like lavenders. When asked about it, Lavender commented that the scent wasn't overly special to her, only that it had herbal properties that helped promote sleep and a peaceful rest.

"We should probably head down soon. See how everyone else got out." Hermione said, breaking the silence.

"Probably," Ron sighed heavily.

"I know you want to check on Luna." Hermione gently bumped his arm, trying to get a reaction out of him.

"Yeah," Ron smiled faintly at the idea of seeing his girlfriend after what seemed like years on the battlefield. "I just don't want to leave him."

"I know what you mean, but … he's already gone, Ron."

Uncomfortable with the idea, Ron changed the subject quickly, "The ministry's going to want to take him, you know. Transfer him to the morgue."

"They're going to have to come through me. He is better off here anyways. We'll put a preserving charm on him and ward the room so that no one can come in." Hermione felt as though her earlier worries about magic were washed away as they washed away the evidence of the damage that it could do from Harry's body.

Hermione looked sideways at Ron's still-reluctant expression. "We're going to have to face the rest of the world eventually."

Ron nodded slightly. "Yeah, I need to check on my family anyway." Ron swung his legs off the bed and stood up, looking at Hermione.

She looked at his face, the slightly embarrassed expression and the shining eyes and put the clues together, "Do you want to… say goodbye?"

Ron gulped heavily. "I think I do. I'm just scared about what it might mean."

Hermione felt the same way. Saying goodbye would mean that he was gone, forever. It meant that it was permanent and there was no coming back from a conversation like that. But still, if they didn't do it, they would regret it forever. She moved up to her knees and wrapped her arms around Ron's shoulders in a light hug. "You know he'd want us to be happy and move on." She felt him nod into her shoulder and knew that he understood it on the surface, even if he didn't completely realize it yet. But this was something she couldn't help him with so she just gave him another squeeze and pulled away, rising from the bed. "I'll give you some privacy." She offered, leaving the dorm.

Ron dragged a chair to sit next to Harry's bed. He gently lifted the sheet from where it was covering Harry's head to that he could look at him while he spoke.

"Hey, mate. I know you're not there anymore. Where ever you are, you're probably having yourself a right laugh at me, making an arse of myself. I'm going to miss you, Harry. I know we didn't always get along – mostly because I can be a right prat – but you were my best mate. And you were always there for me. Except, now you're not. And, well, who's going to calm me down when I get all angry? Help me convince Hermione that life isn't all about books? Who am I going to talk to quidditch about? Who's going to help me be … me, if not you?" Ron choked back a sob and squeezed the hand in his grip even tighter.

"I don't know how I'm going to go on without you, mate, but I'm going to try. I think you'd want me to. … You remember how I was thinking of asking Luna to marry me? I've decided I'm going to give it a shot. I saw her on the way up here, and she looked so happy standing next to her father. She just _glowed_ with the idea that all the fighting was finally over. And then she saw you, and her face crumpled. Honestly, a part of me wanted to just drop you so that I could run over and comfort her. But she'll be alright; she's strong. I need to check on her, but first I think Hermione wants to talk to you."

Ron leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead, avoiding the scar. He wiped at his face, trying to compose himself before letting Hermione in.

When he opened the door, he saw her sitting against the opposite wall, sleeping. It had been a hell of a long couple of days – he almost wished he could join her, but they had things to do.

He stood in the doorway and called her name softly to wake her. None of them had reacted amicably to being startled out of sleep in these last few months. In fact, it often ended in hexing.

"Hermione, wake up," he called gently. She only shook her head a little. "Hermione." He called, a little louder this time.

Her eyes snapped open as her hand went to her pocket. Before she pulled her wand out, her eyes alighted on Ron's figure standing in the doorway opposite her.

"Oh," she said, surprised. "Did I fall asleep?"

Ron laughed as he went to sit beside her. "Yeah. Hell of a day, huh?"

"Hell of a week," she retorted, pulling her legs to her chest so she could rest her head on them. "After we get through this, it will be over, right?" She asked, referring to the general chaos that had defined their lives for the past several years.

Ron slung a friendly arm across her shoulders. "Well, not quite."

She snorted in disgust. "What else could possibly happen?"

"I'm going to ask Luna to marry me," Ron replied casually.

Hermione felt her jaw drop as she turned to look at her friend. "Ron, that's great!" She hugged him, "You two deserve some happiness."

Ron smiled embarrassedly for a second before he leveled a serious look on his friend. "I think we all do."

Hermione flushed at the statement and fished for something to say. "You know, you are a little young."

Ron gave a wistful smile at the remark, "I don't think any of us can be classified as 'young' anymore, Hermione."

She consented to that statement and snuggled herself further into Ron's chest as they sat there and thought about what the future would bring.

"Now, you should go… Once you're done, you can come with me downstairs and watch as I 'pop the question'." Ron waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione stood slowly, staring at the door as though it was death itself. Before she stepped through the doorway, she turned back on her friend who was still sitting on the stone floor. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He replied with a small smile that disappeared behind the wooden door.

Hermione turned around and went to sit in the chair Ron had left by Harry's bed. She gently brought his hand up to her lips, kissing his palm softly.

"Hey Harry." She whispered. "I miss you already. A part of me is angry at you for leaving, you know?" Her fingers traced a gentle design on the sheet covering his torso. "I can't believe you left me and Ron alone. You know we don't get along; without you, we'll be fighting constantly. … I hate looking at your face like that. It's like your not even there, and I know you're not, but I wish you were. I wish I had some kind of sign that you were actually listening to me. I suppose then I would be able to yell at you for getting yourself killed without feeling guilty about yelling at a dead person." Hermione chuckled lightly at the idea.

"I can't believe you're gone, Harry. We were supposed to be eternal: You, me and Ron. I can't believe that we lived through all of this only for you to die at the end. I wish you could be here to celebrate. I just wish…" She broke off roughly.

"It's going to be hard, you know? Without you here. I don't know how I'll go on. Ron has Luna and they just … complete each other. But I don't have anyone, do I Harry?" She asked rhetorically. "I guess I'll just do what I've always done and throw myself into books. It's the only thing I know. … Well, I supposed you'd argue with that, wouldn't you? You'd tell me how brave I am and how I'm the best friend a guy could have, just like you always do." Hermione felt herself dissolve into tears. "Oh, god. I don't know what to do, Harry. I just don't know anything anymore."

Hermione sat there, sobbing on Harry's bed before roughly drawing herself up. "I won't do this though. I'm going to live. I'm going to live for you, Harry; you were never allowed to, so I'll do it for you. I'm going to make you proud. You'll see. And when we meet, you'll be so proud of me, you'll grab me into an awkward hug – no offense, but your hugs were always awkward. I used to wonder if that was because you were never properly hugged in your childhood. I suppose it doesn't matter anymore, does it? I wish it did…"

Hermione gently leaned forward and placed a light kiss on Harry's cheek, "I love you, and I'll never forget you," and walked out of the dorm.

As she closed the door behind her, the full implications of what was in that room hit her and she crumpled in front of the door. Ron came over and took her in for a warm hug.

"Oh, god, Ron," she sobbed. "Oh, god."

"Shh," Ron hushed her, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "Shh."

They stayed like that, awkwardly entwined, rocking back and forth for a few minutes until Hermione's sobs dissolved into small hiccups. When she had been silent for a while, Ron pulled back to look her in the face.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"No," she replied honestly, "but I think I will be."

The pair went downstairs arm-in-arm only to be smothered and broken apart by the people asking questions, telling stories, demanding access to Harry, and more. It was only when Ron landed safely in the arms of his mother, and by default the rest of his family and Luna, that he actually spoke.

"Everybody shut up!" He screamed.

As everyone was startled into silence, he started searching the crowds for Hermione, who was already pushing her way through the mass of people to reach her friend.

"Now," Hermione said as she reached Ron's side, "If you want answers, you will have to wait until _after_ we talk to our families, our friends and the ministry. Before that, we won't say anything. So, if you all don't mind, we would appreciate it if we could have some breathing room so that we aren't suffocated!" she ended harshly.

People started backing off and going back to their own friends and family, muttering to themselves about manners and responsibilities to the public.

Ron turned to his girlfriend, "Luna, are you alright?"

"Yes, Ronald, I am very well, thank you." She said in her dreamy voice.

More than anything else, it was her tone that made Ron pick her up in a large hug and spin her around. Luna hadn't talked in her normal voice in what seemed like months now. When things became really bad, it forced her down into reality, and the fact that she was back to her normal self made Ron ecstatic.

Mid-spin, he placed her down on her feet and whispered in her ear, "Marry me."

Luna's large eyes opened even wider at the question, and a large smile broke out soon after. "Yes," she whispered back.

Ron pulled back to look at her face-on, "Yes?"

"Yes!" Luna exclaimed.

"Yes!" Ron laughed, moving in for a kiss.

Luna responded enthusiastically. As they came up for air, she let out a small squeal. "We're getting married!" she smiled brightly at her fiancé.

Molly broke the moment as she wrapped her arms around the couple. "Oh, my little Ronnie is getting married. I'm so excited!"

"Mum!" Ron groaned.

Hermione stood back as she watched the family and family-to-be together. She was thrilled for Ron, but couldn't help but feel as though this was just his way of starting over. She didn't doubt that he loved Luna or that he wanted to marry her, just thought he was forcing himself to the next stage so that he didn't wallow in what was left behind. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she decided. It might end up being a good thing.

She made her way to Luna, to wrap her in a hug of her own. "Congratulations, Luna."

"Thank you, Hermione. You will be the best man, yes?" Luna asked.

"What?"

"Well, who else would Ronald have by his side?" Luna asked as though she was being silly not knowing what she was talking about.

"No one," Ron replied, coming up behind them. "I would love to have you as my best man, Hermione."

"I don't… that's completely bonkers!"

"So?" Ron asked, amused.

Hermione looked at their faces, realizing that they were being serious about this. She supposed a part of her had wanted to stand by her friend for his wedding, she just hadn't thought out the specifics of the idea. "Do I have to wear a tux?" She asked, smiling.

Ron opened his mouth to reply when a loud shriek came from behind them. "I can't believe you people!" Ginny screamed. "Harry died and you're standing there planning a wedding? You're supposed to be his friends!"

Molly came up and put her arms around her daughter. "Ginny, dear, the whole point of death is to celebrate life."

Ginny threw her arms up, dislodging her mother's grip. "Get off me, mum! There is no 'point' to death. Death is pointless. It just takes people away. Just like Charlie and the twins! Just like Dad! And they don't come back!" Ginny fell to the floor in a puddle of red hair. "I just want them back."

"We all do dear. I miss your father so much already. I can't believe that I'll never see his smile or hear him laugh again. And it hurts, Ginny, but we need to celebrate the fact that they lived. We need to prove to them that they made us happy in life and that their memories will make us happy in their deaths. Otherwise, it's all just meaningless. _You_ would make their lives meaningless."

Ginny looked up at her mother with stricken eyes. "They weren't meaningless, mum. I just want them to keep on living; I don't want them to become memories. I _need_ Harry, mum."

Molly looked down at her daughter, surprised at her final sentence, but quickly regained her composure. "The world needed Harry, dear. And he saved them all." She knelt down to hug her daughter tightly, hoping that it would finally make sense.

She knew, however, that it would never make sense. It seemed to her as though death never did.

Please Review!


	3. Find A Way

a/n: Sorry abou the long wait, but this is _the_ chapter (well, this one and the next one), so I hope you'll all be pleased. Hopefully I made everything sound okay. I haven't actually read the books recently and I think I only read OotP/HBP and DH once each, so you'll have to forgive errors. Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter Two: Find A Way

Ginny banged her head against the desk she was sitting at. It had been over a year now, and she still hadn't found anything. She had already scoured the Hogwarts Restricted Section last year courtesy of a Head Girl badge. It made sense to follow up with Hermione's library, especially as it now contained the Black Family Library via Harry's will.

Ginny still fumed over the fact that Harry hadn't mentioned her in his will. It didn't' make any sense! Sure he left the Weasley family a vault-full of gold, but she, his girlfriend, didn't merit something special? Aside from a few set amounts of money and a box full of stuff to go to Remus, the majority of Harry's money, property, and possessions were split between Ron and Hermione. Ginny received nothing to remember him by!

She calmed herself down, reminding herself for the millionth time that Harry merely didn't' have time to edit his will after their year together. He had become too busy hunting down Voldemort.

She picked the book up off the desk that she was occupying in Hermione's study and exchanged it for the next one that looked promising. She quickly scanned the Table of Contents, and finding nothing moved on to the index. The index mentioned the topic she was researching and referenced a page that held an all-too brief paragraph.

_The mysteries of life and death are some of the most ambiguous known to man. It is thought that these obscurities will never be fully explained, but more is being learned every day. It is rumored that within the Department of Mysteries, there is an entire room referred to as the Death Chamber. Within this room, there is supposedly a veil that acts as a passageway between the realm of the dead and our own reality. It has been said that if one is able to activate this veil, they can bring back lost souls. _

Ginny stopped reading mid-paragraph, this was it! This was what she had been looking for. She smiled happily at the information revealed in the text. All she needed to do now was find a way to activate the veil and she would be able to bring Harry back! She eagerly turned her attention back to the book in her hands.

_It is believed that the Unspeakable who found the veil transcribed a study of the veil and its properties. This account is alleged to have started with a Malfoy and now remain in their family library. Of course, these rumors have never been confirmed. _

She groaned at the latest information given to her. She closed the book and rested her head on her crossed arms. She stayed in that position contemplating the probabilities of sneaking in and out of Malfoy Manor undetected. That was when she heard the front door close. Her head shot back up as she realized Hermione must have come back. She quickly magicked the books back to their places, and quickly gathering up all her notes, she banished them to her room at the Burrow.

She normally managed to get out before Hermione got back, but a glance at the clock showed that Hermione had come back early that day. Ginny spun frantically in a circle, trying to figure out how to get out undetected. She could hear Hermione in the kitchen, by the sounds of it, making a pot of tea.

She wouldn't be able to apparate, as the noise would gain attention and Hermione would probably be able to track her. She couldn't floo either, as the fireplace was downstairs.

There was only one thing to do, she realized. She sucked up her courage and put her best face on before stepping out of the study.

Hermione was preparing a cup of tea when she heard an upstairs door creak. Her hand quickly grasped the wooden handle of her wand, currently resting in her back pocket. Ignoring the now whistling kettle, she slid the wand out and began moving towards the staircase.

Looking up from the foot of the stairs, she could see vague shadows that meant that someone was moving around on the landing. They started walking down the stairs, giving away their position with the tell-tale thumping. As the person neared the stairs' corner, Hermione's grip tightened and a stunner situated itself on the tip of her tongue.

Hermione didn't even look at the person's face, but rather, focused on the torso as it came into view. A stunner had the most impact when it hit the chest. The stunner shot out of her wand and her victim only had time to look surprised before crashing to the ground unconscious.

Hermione cautiously walked up to the person, only to gape at the identity.

"Ginny?"

Once Hermione got over her surprise, she woke Ginny back up and proceeded to help her friend to sit at the kitchen table. Hermione retreated back to the stove to bring out the tea. She poured them both a cup and turned to face her unexpected guest.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" she asked.

Ginny looked up at Hermione with a bashful smile. "I just wanted to visit. If this is a bad time, I can always come back."

"No, its fine. You're always welcome to visit here. I just…" Hermione trailed off uncertainly. "Well, I suppose I'm just a little surprised. I haven't seen you more than twice since the funeral."

Ginny hid her flinch at the words, "I just had some stuff I had to deal with, that's all."

"Of course, I understand completely."

Ginny looked up at Hermione angrily. "Oh, you think so, do you?"

Hermione looked at her younger friend surprised at the angry accusation. "Well, I suppose we all felt a little differently, but-"

"Never mind," Ginny interrupted. "I just still get angry about the situation sometimes. I didn't mean to lash out on you."

Hermione consented to leaving it at that and instead looked down at her teacup, almost hoping that the tealeaves would explain to her what exactly was wrong with Ginny and why she was visiting now, of all times.

"So," Ginny broke the silence. "I hear you're a healer now. I would've thought you'd go into Auror academy, like you guys were thinking about."

Hermione's face turned sour. "I couldn't. Magic just caused too much pain already. This way, I'm reminding myself of the good it can do, so I don't just give up on it entirely."

Ginny gave her a disjointed smile-- half-disgusted, half-amused-- not understanding. "I suppose," she remarked, uncaringly.

Hermione had extensive experience in trying to explain her opinions, but most pure-bloods didn't seem to understand it at all. She had gotten to the point, that she never really explained more than one or two sentences. "So, what are you up to?"

"I'm just enjoying doing nothing right now. I've been thinking of entering into Auror training soon though. I think I could be good at it." After she brought Harry back, they would enter it together and become the most formidable pair of Aurors ever known.

Hermione smiled at Ginny's confidence and refrained from remarking on Ginny's lack of reaction to her earlier stunner.

"Have you heard from Ron recently?" Ginny asked. "He doesn't seem to come home anymore."

"Actually, I just saw him yesterday." Hermione smiled, remembering their visit. "He and Luna will be visiting the Burrow tomorrow. They have an announcement they want to make."

"Are they finally breaking up?" Ginny asked casually.

Hermione looked at her friend, surprised. "What?"

"I always knew that they wouldn't work out, long term. Honestly I'm surprised they lasted as long as they did, they're just too different." Ginny continued.

Hermione shook her head frantically. "No! Of course they aren't. Luna's pregnant."

This time, it was Ginny's turn to be surprised. "Oh."

Hermione calmed herself back down. "Yeah, she's four months along and just starting to show. Ron was so excited he couldn't even sit still to eat. It was almost frightening.

Ginny quickly regained her good humor. "Ron turning down food? Must be an apocalypse."

"Oh, he didn't turn the food down." Hermione laughed. "Just ran around with his plate. It was so funny, watching him fussing over Luna. It was almost as if Molly had possessed him." The two girls laughed together at the picture of Molly in Ron's body.

A little while later, Ginny set down her empty teacup. "I should probably be getting back. Mum'll be worried." She explained, standing up.

"No problem," Hermione swiftly stood opposite her friend. "It was wonderful to see you again. We've all really missed you… We should do this again sometime, Yeah?"

"Yeah," Ginny agreed. "I'll owl you." She promised falsely. After a polite hug, Ginny made her way to the front door, only to be stopped by Hermione.

"You'll have to go out the back, my neighbors are all muggles."

"Oh, right. I'd forgotten about that." Ginny gave a small laugh.

Hermione waved from the back door as Ginny prepared to apparate. As she closed the door, she missed Ginny's expression twisting into a malicious grin.

The next day, Ginny apparated to the Malfoy Estate. Looking in past the gate, she gazed upon the dark, foreboding mansion. She placed the tip of her wand against the Malfoy Crest adorning the gate and spoke clearly, "Ginerva Weasley here to see Draco Malfoy."

She didn't receive a response immediately and so sat down on a boulder to wait. She wouldn't be leaving until she got her information.

More than a half hour later, she heard the sounds of someone coming towards her. Quickly hopping off the boulder, she looked herself over, knowing that you never appear weak or unkempt before a Malfoy. As the man came into view, she stifled a groan at his utterly infuriating smirk.

"Well, well" he greeted. "If it isn't the Weaslette." As he came within a few feet of the gate, it swung open before him. Leaning against it, he spoke, "Something I can do for you?"

"I need your help." She said honestly, having decided that it would be the best way to deal with him.

"What could you possibly need my help for?" he asked wryly.

Ginny took a deep breath. "I need access to the Malfoy Library; specifically books written about the Veil."

Draco looked down at her in shock, but quickly covered it up, "What veil?"

"Don't play stupid, Malfoy. The first person to find the Veil was a Malfoy and he made a written account of his findings. I need to see it," Ginny responded, making sure to remain calm.

Draco quickly scanned his brain for information on the veil, before it hit him. "Ah, I understand."

When he remained infuriatingly silent after that statement, Ginny burst. "_What_ do you understand?"

Draco smirked at the girl. "You want to bring Potty back."

Ginny took a quick step forward, getting directly in his face. "First of all, his name is _Harry_." She claimed, poking him in the chest. "Second of all, you just revealed that you do know what I'm talking about." Another poke. "Third of all, whether you help me or not, I _will_ bring Harry back. I just assumed you wouldn't want me to mess up and obliterate the world." She stepped back, breathing heavily.

Draco rubbed at his chest unconsciously. "Well, you do make a good point. It'd be just like a Weasley to try necromancy and end up exploding the planet," he sneered. "But, I suppose if I help bring back Potter, I will officially clear my name…. Alright, come in."

Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her through the numerous wards surrounding the Malfoy Estate.

Ginny wrenched her hand out of his. "What the hell was that for?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry, your Weasleyness, I just figured you would prefer _not_ imploding as a result of going through the wards without a Malfoy."

"Oh," Ginny said, figuring that must have been why her hand was tingling.

Draco led the way to the house and into the library. Leaving Ginny at the Library doorway, he went towards a back bookshelf and pulled out the forth book on the bottom row, causing the shelving unit to disappear entirely.

Ginny, who had followed him despite his warnings to stay at the entrance, looked at him curiously.

"Dad had a love fore the classics," he grinned. "Now, don't enter this room; only those with Malfoy blood can. I mean, I don't care or anything, but you'd die instantly and I'd be left with the mess."

Draco entered and started scanning titles in the new room of books. After about five minutes, he let out a loud "Aha!" and made his way back to the entrance.

"Finally," Ginny muttered from her waiting spot. "How long's it take to find a flipping book?"

Draco walked by her without a word, heading towards one of the tables that rested at the front of the library. He made himself comfortable at the head of a table, while Ginny settled herself on his right, reasoning that she'd need to see the book as well. He raised an eyebrow at her seating and she lifted her chin stubbornly, staring back. Before a staring contest broke out, Draco yelled sharply, "Ziggy!"

A fraction of a second later, a houself was kneeling by his side. "What can Ziggy do for Master?" the squeaky voice asked.

"We need parchment and quills," he commanded sharply.

Ziggy snapped and the requested items appeared on the table before them along with ink and extra nubs.

Draco surveyed the items laid out in front of him with a skeptical expression. "Acceptable."

Taking that as a dismissal, Ziggy disappeared.

For her part, Ginny refrained from comment, instead choosing to reach out for the book resting in front of Draco. Before she touched it, his hand snapped down to cover it.

"You will read through this without touching it. You will take notes, but this book will not leave my sight. Is that understood?"

Ginny opened her mouth to protest his terms but thought better of it and reluctantly nodded, "Fine."

"Brilliant," Draco smiled falsely. Carefully opening the cover, he gave Ginny some background. "This is Alexander Malfoy's journal; the original and it has never been copied. He did his research in early 1531, after finding it while studying the ruins in Africa. He described his first encounter with the Veil here," He pushed the book over and the two bent their heads together to read the first entry.

'_I could hear voices–whispers, really–coming from beyond it. I circled the stone archway, but there was nothing behind it making the noises, they came from within the stone itself. The only explanation was that it was a passageway. To where, I don't know. Maybe another dimension. Maybe another planet. I endeavor to find out.'_

Six hours later, Draco shut the journal. Piles of parchment lay in front of them, notes scribbled in every available spot. The ritual Ginny had found was extremely complicated and involved the blood of a love one, something belonging to the lost soul, along with a complex arithmetic spell. Ginny thanked Merlin that she had taken Arrhythmic in her final year at Hogwarts. The way it would work was that the blood should be smeared onto the item, to attract the soul's attention; blood calls to blood. The item, something that was cherished in life, would provide a link to the world, and to the lost soul's life. Once the soul came into contact with the object, it would bring them over to the other side of the veil; back to life.

Ginny couldn't stop smiling. She knew that this would work – it had to. She needed Harry back, so she would bring him back.

Ginny walked into the Department of Mysteries with a bag swinging heavily at her side. She stepped into the circular room and held the door open for Draco behind her. As the door shut, she marked it with a flaming X, thanking Hermione for teaching the spell to her after the original Department of Mysteries event. As soon as she finished her spell, the doors spun wildly.

Once the room stopped spinning, Draco let out an eloquent "Huh."

Ginny couldn't prevent a smile at his reaction, "Yeah." She stepped forward to try a new door, only to reveal the time room. Sighing disappointedly, she marked and shut the door.

After a few more tries, Ginny opened the door to be greeted with the Death Chamber. Taking a steadying breath, she entered the room. The door swung shut after Draco entered; the loud noise causing them to jump and the dark shadows of the room became that much more daunting.

Ginny sucked up her courage and went to sit cross-legged before the veil. She slowly unpacked her bag, revealing a jar of sand, a silver dagger, along with Harry's Firebolt, temporarily 'liberated' from Ron's house. She carefully set all the items down beside her before looking up at Draco. "You ready?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Maybe," Ginny laughed.

Ginny slowly made her way through the ritual; her voice steady as it rang throughout the chamber. She meticulously made every wand gesture and movement exactly as the instructions laid out before her directed. Nearing the end, she picked up her gagger and quickly sliced the blade across her palm, never faltering in her intoning. She wiped her palm across the Firebolt's handle, her blood filling in the indented logo.

As she finished the last words, she tossed the broom behind the veil, watching it disappear. She stood to the side of the stone archway, watching the fluttering of the black cloth.

A minute passed.

And then another.

When his watch reached the five-minute hand, Draco spoke up, "It's over."

Ginny's eyes didn't move from the passageway.

"Ginny. It's been five minutes. The window has closed." He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, startling her gaze away from the veil.

"No," she whispered brokenly. "It's not possible. This was supposed to work!"

She ran up and started pounding her fists on the stone arch. "This had to work! It was supposed to, dammit! Bring him back to me. Bring him back!" She paused as the fluttering cloth started moving jerkily almost as though it was angry.

She watched the twitching cloth, heart in her throat, _knowing_ that she was finally going to get Harry back. Something moved behind the curtains– she could see it!

The curtain spat out the Firebolt. Just the broom.

Ginny collapsed atop it, bile rising in her throat. She vomited, hacking noisily

Behind her, she felt a soft hand rest on her lower back, another one reaching up to pull her hair out of her face, where it was hanging limply.

"I– I don't–"

"Shh," Draco hushed her. "It's alright. It'll be okay."

"N-no," Ginny sobbed. "It wont. Oh, God, it won't."

"Yes it will," Draco said, still using a gentle, reassuring voice. "It will work out, you'll see."

Ginny looked up at him, face red and blotchy from her tears. "Promise?" she asked, sounding like the little girl she tried to leave behind.

"Yeah." Draco smiled at her softly, "I promise."

Elsewhere, a heart started beating, muscles twitched, rotting flesh became healthy and vivid green eyes opened once more.

Reviews please?


	4. Reawakening

Okay, this is the chapter that I could just not get right, no matter how often I tried. But, I'm fairly pleased with the current result, so here's hoping that you guys are too.

Please, please, please review. This is the big emotional stuff, so I'd really like to know how I did on it. 'Til next time, Rebecca

Chapter Three: Reawakening

Ron was woken up by movement in his bed. It normally didn't bother him, but this time his wife was thrashing wildly, murmuring in her sleep.

"Luna?" He asked, looking down at her fearful face. "Luna wake up, it's just a dream." He said, shaking her shoulder.

"Wrong."

"Luna, wake up! Your dreaming." Ron repeated, shaking her shoulder harder.

Luna shot up, hitting Ron's head with her own. She didn't react to the bump, just stared off blankly at the wall. "It's all wrong," she said, voice harsh and scratchy.

"Luna?" Ron asked hesitantly.

He watched his wife's face as she rapidly blinked and started gasping for air. She started trembling as she came back to herself. "Oh god," she gasped, "Oh, god."

Ron reached forward to wrap his arms around her shaking form. He kept them like that, until she stopped shaking. After giving her a couple extra minutes to gather herself, he spoke, "Luna?"

"Ronald," she said, just realizing that he was there, holding her. "Hello."

"Hey," Ron smiled down at her. "You okay? You were having a damn bad nightmare… Scared me."

"I just–" Luna trailed off, unsure how to explain her dream.

"What is it, Loony?" Ron asked, hoping the nickname would help calm her down.

"I had a dream." Luna said, turning her eyes back to the wall. "It was about Harry." She ignored Ron's sharp intake of breath. "He came back."

"We all have dreams like that." Ron spoke in a rough voice, betraying his emotions regarding those dreams.

Luna shook her head. "No. Not like this. It was different. He came back but something was different… Was _wrong_." Luna said harshly.

Ron looked at her curiously. "What do you mean wrong?"

"I don't know," Luna shuddered. " I don't know."

"Well," Ron said awkwardly. "It was just a dream… We should get some sleep. It's only two in the morning."

"Yeah, just a dream." Luna lied down, still unsure.

The next morning as Ron was making breakfast, Luna came down, looking still asleep in her robe. She sat down on the kitchen counter next to where Ron was cooking. She watched him for a few minutes before speaking up, "I want to visit today."

"Visit who, honey?" Ron asked, still occupied with frying the bacon.

"Harry… I want to visit his grave." Luna explained, fiddling with the belt on her robe.

Ron looked up at her surprised. "Is this because of the dream? … Luna, it wasn't real."

"You don't know that," Luna argued. "What if the Snarpuffs got to me? They could have been showing me what happened." Luna bit her lip at Ron's level gaze before consenting, "Alright, probably not. But I need to be sure. Besides, dreams always mean something, I need to figure out what this means.

"Couldn't it just mean that you miss him?" Ron asked.

"Ronald, I need to see him." Luna implored, eyes glistening with tears fixed on her husband.

"Alright, alright." Ron agreed. "Just stop looking at me like that… We'll go after breakfast." He offered, knowing that she would want to go sooner rather than later.

"Thank you Ronald." Luna smiled brightly before jumping off the counter and reaching up to kiss her husband. She moved up the stairs to change when she called back, "Your bacon is burning!"

Ron, who had been watching his wife walk away, turned back to the stove before cursing colorfully. As he moved the burning bacon off the skillet, he smiled as his Luna's musical laugher floated down the stairs.

A while later, the two were standing in the living room, preparing to leave. They would be flooing, as Luna wasn't permitted to apparate while pregnant.

"You ready?"

Luna nodded and moved toward the fireplace. Taking a handful of the powder, she stepped in and called out, "Bromhill Memorial!"

She stepped out of the fireplace and nodded at the receptionist. Seconds later, Ron came tumbling out of the flames.

Together they went to sign in.

"Names?" the old witch at the desk asked.

"Ron and Luna Weasley, here to see Harry Potter." Ron said, watching as the old woman bowed her head in respect for the savior of the Wizarding World.

The witch rose her graying head. "Of course," she said, handing them visitor's passes.

"Thank you," Luna said, magicking her badge to stick to her shirt.

The couple walked out of the building and began making their way through the tombstones, crypts and mausoleums. As they neared the site they were most familiar with, they noticed a mound of disturbed dirt.

Luna tightly gripped Ron's hand when they first noticed the mismatched patch of grass and dirt. The duo slowed their steps as they moved forward, hoping it wasn't Harry's grave but instinctively knowing that it was. They remained silent until they were at the foot of his grave.

"Who would do this?" Ron asked, getting angry. "Who would destroy his grave like this?"

"I think the question you should be asking is if he's still in there." Luna responded quietly.

"Luna, people don't just rise from the dead!" Ron shouted angrily.

Luna remained calm, agreeing, "People don't. But then, Harry Potter wasn't just a normal person is he?"

Ron fell to his knees, unaware that his hand still clenched around Luna's pulled her down too. His face clenched in an effort to hold back his tears. "No, he wasn't."

"Shh." Luna rubbed his back soothingly. "I know."

Ron leaned into her for a minute before starting to draw his wand. "We need to fix this."

Luna closed her hand over Ron's, halting his movement. "Let me check first, Ron."

"Luna, even if he isn't there, it doesn't mean he's alive. For all we know, somebody took him… I don't think I even want to know if he's there or not."

"Of course you do." Luna chided her husband. "If he isn't you want to know so you can hunt down the bastard who took him from us." She declared with an uncharacteristic vehemence.

"Damn straight I will." Ron agreed, "Do it."

Luna waved her wand over the grave and they watched as a holographic image of the coffin came up. The tope of the casket had been wrecked, and now had a hole in it. It looked like something had pushed it's way through the wood.

The duo stared at the translucent image for a while before Ron spoke. "I need to talk to Hermione."

Hermione Granger was having a good day. She hadn't awoken from Nightmares, but rather a peaceful dream about her friends in their golden years. It was her day off so she didn't have anywhere to be and decided she would visit the nearby bookstore for a new read and a cup of tea from the adjoining café. She sat there in the cozy shop for a good hour, reading up on a new book released by one of her coworkers. Healer Kane had started employing Muggle methods while dealing with brain damage. He had enlisted Hermione to help him, as she was one of the few people in their research hospital who still had ties to the Muggle world.

The book explained how Muggles also had people who specialized in the human brain. They were, ironically enough, further advanced in brain research than the Wizarding world. It was highly dangerous to perform any magic directly on the brain, as proved by the imperious. Any exposure to magic could harm the brain, in the past, people had been sent crazy with a mild diagnostic charm.

Hermione was still thinking about the theories presented in the book as she walked home. The shop was only ten blocks away from her home, and the weather was oddly nice out.

Hermione waved to her neighbor as she passed, an elderly man, Samuel Marshal, who was constantly in his yard; the man spent all of his time outside. Hermione occasionally wandered over to help him, and he always had a new story to tell.

"Hello Sam," she called out as she got within hearing distance. "Roses today?" she asked, looking at the bushes he was tending to.

"That's right, Ms. Hermione. You going to come help an old man out?" he teased.

"Sorry Sam, I can't today. I'm meeting up with a friend from school. This weekend, alright?"

"Sure thing, darling. Looking forward to it."

Hermione laughed as she walked up her front steps. Turning a critical eye on her own patch of grass, she wondered if she could persuade Sam to help her plant something to liven it up.

She sifted her key out of her purse, but when she looked up, her door was open a crack. Not moving her gaze from the door, she called out, "Sam? Do you know if someone went into my house?"

"Yup. Young lad, about your age, dark hair and dirty as a pig. He let himself in with a key. Didn't you say you were expecting a friend?"

Hermione felt herself relax. "Of course. Thanks." Only three people had keys to her house, Ron, Kane and Neville. By the description, she was assuming Kane. Sometimes when he experimented, objects exploded and he didn't even notice. It must have been something spectacular for him to rush over to her house.

She entered her home and shut the door behind her loudly. "See Kane, this is what we do, we close–" Hermione trailed off. She had turned to the living room expecting Kane to be bouncing on the sofa, ready to tell her all about his latest breakthrough. Instead, she saw someone she never expected to see again.

She blinked a few times, pinching herself, but he was still there, "Harry?" she asked, hating how weak her voice came out.

Green eyes moved from the floor to her face, and when she saw her friend's face, straight on, she whipped out her want to point it at the stranger. "Who do you think you are?" She demanded harshly. "Who the fuck do you think you are, breaking into my house, looking like my dead best friend.

The Imposter blinked blankly. "I don't–" The voice came out rough and raspy from disuse. He doubled over, coughing harshly before turning blank green eyes back on her. "Why am I here?"

Hermione looked at the sadness, fear, and pure sincerity that lye on Harry's face. It didn't make any sense. No one would be able to fake that expression, so lost and alone. She lowered her wand a fraction. "I don't understand."

Just then, a knock came at her door. Without moving her gaze, she called out, "Who is it?"

"Hermione?" Ron called from the entryway. "We were just at–" he broke off at the sight before him. "Bloody Hell."

Harry still sat, staring blankly at the new arrivals. He recognized them, of course, but he couldn't understand why they were here. Or more accurately, why _he_ was here.

"Hi, Ron." Hermione said, still staring at Harry. "Luna with you?"

Ron looked beside him at his wife. She was staring intently at Harry. Probably studying his aura, Ron thought. She's always had the innate ability to see auras. It's part of what makes her different from the average witch. She wasn't crazy, but rather, connected to her own magic more than most people.

"Yeah." He responded. "She's right here."

"Great." Hermione said. "Luna, care to shed any light on the problem sitting on my sofa?"

Luna snapped out of her trance when Hermione called her name. "It's Harry," she said surprised. "No one could fake his aura. But there's something… different about it."

Hermione slipped her wand into her pocket at Luna's confirmation, but turned to ask what she meant. "how is that possible? Aura's don't change."

Luna couldn't answer. "I don't know. Maybe it's the residue of wherever he was."

"Where he was?" Hermione asked. "Where exactly was he? I mean…"

"Oh." She said, having a burst of inspiration. She turned to Harry again, still sitting and watching. "You mean he was kicked out of heaven? How could that happen?"

Luna shook her head at Hermione's conclusion. "He wasn't kicked out. He was torn out. There's a webbing of dark magic connecting him to the Earth."

That was clear enough for even Ron to understand. "Someone brought him back? Ripped him away from heaven? Who would do that?" he asked, disgusted.

Hermione ignored his question and slowly approached her friend sitting on the sofa. "Harry?" she asked, kneeling before him.

He looked down on her and spoke roughly. "Hermione."

"Yeah, Harry," she smiled sadly. "It's Hermione. And behind me, do you know who they are?"

Harry looked at her disgustedly.

She smiled embarrassed, "Of course you do. I just… Well, I'm glad to see you again, Harry. I've missed you."

"We've all missed you, Harry Potter, and we're very sorry you had to come back." Luna spoke gently from her spot behind Hermione.

"We are, Harry," Hermione said sincerely. "I'm sorry that you're not.. where you were."

"Do you… do you remember anything?" Ron asked.

Harry looked at him, surprised by the question. When he thought about it, he found himself transported back to a place of peace and happiness. "I.. It was light, warm. Smelled like.. home. I knew that everyone I loved was safe, happy. It was… calm."

Luna, Ron and Hermione looked at Harry, the peaceful expression on his face, the happiness. It was one of the few times they'd seen him look so purely happy.

Harry snapped back to reality. "How did I get here?"

Luna spoke up, "It looks like it was a dark ritual, which means it was… on purpose."

"Who?"

"We don't know yet, Harry. But I promise that we will find out," Hermione answered. She was going to make the person pay for ripping her friend from a place of happiness.

Harry looked down at Hermione, still kneeling at his feet. "Send me back," he pleaded, tears in his eyes. "please, send me back."

The group looked at him, stricken. Hermione felt tears pricking her own eyes. "Harry, I can't."

"Please, Hermione."

"I'm sorry."

"Kill me!" he begged, clasping her arms in his palms.

Hermione looked at his frantic face and felt tears course down her face. "Harry…" she whispered.

"I can't do this again," Harry whispered, drawing back into himself. "I can't go through this hell again. It hurts. Everything here hurts. I can't stand it."

He was wringing his hands together as he spoke, wincing.

Hermione looked down at his hands, the knuckles bloody and raw. "Harry, what happened?"

He started picking at the raw skin, not answering. Hermione covered his hands with hers to make him stop. "Harry?"

"He had to get out." Luna answered for him. "No air, can't breathe."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other as her meaning sunk in. "Bloody hell. He had to claw his way out…"

"Of his grave." Hermione finished. "My god."

The three turned worried eyes on Harry, who continued to sit and observe them.

"How long?" he asked roughly.

"Fourteen months..." Hermione answered.

"Oh." Harry said, returning his gaze to his lap.

They all fell silent, lost in their own thoughts.

Hermione suddenly pasted on a large smile and stood up. "Well, Harry, do you want anything? Some tea? Something to eat? I've got some really good biscuits. Ron's addicted to them, but I'm sure he'll share."

Ron carried her train of thought. "They are really good, mate. Delicious."

"No thanks," Harry answered, lifting his gaze to his friends. "I think I just want to sleep."

Hermione looked at him uncertainly but quickly agreed. "Of course. You can stay here. I've got three extra rooms that I never use. You're welcome to any of them. "Or there's an extra at Ron and Luna's. Whichever you prefer."

Hermione gave him an encouraging smile as she grasped his hand in hers. She turned around, gently tugging his hand to lead him up the stares. Directing him into the bathroom, Hermione got him to sit down on the toilet while she started running the water. Dampening a cloth, she gently wiped his face off, clearing it of dirt. Moving down, she cleaned his hands, placing special attention to the bloodied knuckles.

After cleaning him up, Hermione directed him into the free room next to hers. "You'll be in here, I'm next door, and you already know where the bathroom is. If there's anything you need, just yell."

Harry just silently sat down on the bed, turning on his side to curl in on himself, leaving his back to Hermione.

"Okay, well, goodnight," Hermione said, flicking the light switch and closing the door behind her.

Harry laid still in the darkness, eyes shut tightly as though to block out reality. Pulling a pillow over his head, he drifted into a restless sleep of the hell he lived through and the heaven he found.

Downstairs, Hermione, Ron and Luna sat at the kitchen table, talking about the recent events.

"What now?" Ron asked the girls.

"I don't know," Hermione responded. "I guess we try to re-integrate him into the world. God knows how the wizarding world will react to their savior coming back to life.

"Yes," Luna agreed. "It will be quite a mess."

"Did you see him though?" Ron asked, staring blankly into a mug of tea. "He was begging us to kill him. And he doesn't react to anything; it's like he's just waiting for it to end."

"He thinks of this world as hell," Luna explained with her odd insight. "For the eighteen years that he lived here, he was constantly in danger or harmed or alone. The pain he went through almost broke him. But then, he found his Utopia, a place of peace, where he knew that everything was right. Now, he's back, and he doesn't know how to find happiness again, so he just wants to give up."

"Well I won't let him!" Hermione decided. "I refuse to let him destroy himself. He will learn how to live again and connect to this world whether he likes it or not."

"I think that's what he needs," Luna concurred.

"So how do we do that?" Ron asked. "How do we find a way to make him live?"

TBC


End file.
